Do I love my country? Of course I do. But why?

As I said at the end of my last posting, I’m not expecting everyone, or even anyone, to agree with me about any of this. Even when I read over what I’ve written, I think some of it sounds like a major stretch, and much too alarmist for my taste.

Occasionally I consider giving up this silly personal protest, but then I get thinking about the incredible damage that nationalism does, what Gordon Lightfoot called “The patriotic fever, and the cold steel that kills”. I see the astonishing things that good people can be led to do to others, seemingly without thinking about it, and I wonder how they got there. And then I wonder if saying things together about themselves and their country that they would never thoughtfully say, might have prepared them to do things together for themselves and their country that they would never thoughtfully do. And then this sinister little voice inside suggests that, perhaps, that’s what this anthem singing is really all about. And I’m right back where I started, standing with my mouth shut.

But, all this being said, I do believe that love of country, like love of family and community, is a good thing. And I believe that this love, like all love, needs to be expressed. But it needs to be articulated carefully, thoughtfully.

When my children were small we had a little ritual they enjoyed. I would say “I love you”, and then I would ask, “Do I love you because you’re beautiful?”, and they would answer, “Noooooooooooo!”. “Do I love you because you’re smart?” “Noooooooooooo!" “Do I love you because you’re good?” “Noooooooooooo!" Then I might add a few current things like because you made your bed, or won a prize. And to each the stock answer was, “Noooooooooooo!” “So, why do I love you?”, I would eventually ask. And they would answer, “You love me because I’m me”.

This little game may seem a silly thing, but it’s actually one of the best things we ever did together. It reminded us that we love each other simply because I am their daddy and they are my kids. And so, regardless what they might become: beautiful or ugly, wise or foolish, good or bad, or what they might achieve or fail to achieve, this one thing will be forever true. As long as I am their daddy and they are my kids I will love them.

In 1918 a young Jewish immigrant to America, Israel Isidore Baline, wrote the simplest little song to express his love of country; unashamedly sentimental, and unapologetically a prayer. He was already a published song writer with a couple of hits to his credit, and one super-hit, Alexanders’ Ragtime Band. But this song he put away, and it didn’t see the light of day for 20 years.

As I say, it is a simple song, particularly for a song of this kind. But, far more than that, it is humble, a quality very rarely found in national hymns. There are no “ramparts” or “bombs bursting in air”. There is no “sending victorious”, not even one “glorious”, no “standing on guard”. His original begins with a spoken introduction reflecting the historical context of 1938, the year it was released, and the song says everything anyone need ever say in a national hymn.

While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer.

God bless America, land that I love
Stand beside her and guide her
Through the night with a light from above
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans white with foam

God bless America, my home sweet home.
God bless America, my home sweet home. – Irving Berlin

I am grateful for my country, and committed to it. And I pray for its protection and guidance. But why? Because it's a great country, a large country, a rich country, a good country? Because we see it rise strong and true and glorious? Because someone has convinced me it's the land of the free and the home of the brave? No. I am committed to it, and pray for it, because I love it. And I love it because it’s my home; just because it’s my home. And as long as it's the land of my family and loved ones, and thus my home, I will continue to do so. Any more than that is less.

Not singing "O Canada" may be silly, but is it really any sillier than singing it?

When people hear that I refuse to sing O Canada for reasons of faith they’re usually surprised, partly because they don’t take the anthem that seriously. “It’s just the national anthem”, they’ll protest. By the time I’m finished, however, they’ve often discovered a new devotion to their national hymn, and are ready to hang me for high treason. So, let’s proceed with care. Lynching, even for high treason, is still a crime in Canada.

O Canada has an interesting history. Composed by Calixa Lavallée, a well known French Canadian composer, with lyrics by Judge Adolphe-Basile Routhier, it was first performed publicly in Quebec City on June 24, 1880. It became popular in Quebec, inspiring several English versions, and gradually the 1908 English lyrics, by Robert Stanley Weir, caught on in English Canada. In the popular mind it gradually replaced God Save the King/Queen, but was not officially proclaimed our national anthem until 1980, when it was adopted with slightly altered lyrics.

Both French and English versions employ poetic allusions to explicitly Christian images. In a culture informed by Christian symbols this works as a poetic device, but it ultimately poses a problem for thoughtful believers and non-believers alike. Consider this English translation of the French version:

O Canada! Land of our forefathers

Your brow is wreathed with a glorious garland of flowers.

As your arm is ready to wield the sword,

So also is it ready to carry the cross.

Your history is an epic of the most brilliant exploits.

Your valour steeped in faith

Will protect our homes and our rights

Will protect our homes and our rights. (emphasis mine)

I can’t imagine that the average secular Quebecois can seriously sing the fourth line, or perhaps even the sixth, without holding his or her nose at least a little. I suppose, like most of us, they simply try to think about something else. But the English version is, to me, both more subtly and stridently religious. Consider the official English lyrics:

O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!

From far and wide, O Canada,
we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. (emphasis mine)

I have heard many objections to the militarism, sexism, and patriarchal assumptions of this song, but these are not my concerns. This is a hymn addressed to a personification of our country and, whether consciously or not, Canada has been personified as a god, and, more specifically, as the God of Christian faith. I can almost hear the eyes rolling over the clack of my keyboard, so let me hurry on and see if I can build a case.

True patriot love in all thy sons command. This line casts Canada in the role of our father, and us as its (his) sons. Just a poetic image for most Canadians, but a conflict for those of us who regularly, seriously and exclusively pray “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come...” But this is just the beginning.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise, When we’ve sung this line hundreds of times it may seem an obvious thing to say about the nation. Perhaps we really do see Canada rising. But I think there is a deeper allusion here. In Christian imagery it is God who rises, and Christians look to this resurrection in Christ. Such language is powerful, but it makes some of us a little nervous.

The True North strong and free! Again, this may seem an obvious thing to say about a northern country, but for me it is the unfolding of a Christian allusion. When Jesus was asked how one can get to the Father he replied "I am the way and the truth and the life.” Is it not intriguing, in a poetic allusion sort of way, that Canada is not only our father, and rising, but now the “North” (way) the “True” (truth), and the “strong and free” (life)?

For those who don’t agree this may all seem pretty trivial, yet any one of these points makes the song unsingable for me. But in 1980 a line was added that seals the deal as far as I’m concerned.

God keep our land glorious and free! Many people have never even noticed that this is a prayer, but for someone who prays regularly, and often publicly, it’s not just a prayer, it’s a ghastly prayer. I cannot imagine myself going before God to pray about my glory, or the glory of my nation. And when, as a preacher, I do pray publicly, I often pray The Lord’s Prayer, which ends, “For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory. To go before God with the request that he keep us glorious is more, which is to say less, than I can do.

I’m not expecting everyone, or even anyone, to agree with me about any of this, of course. I’m just hoping that some who have wondered why anyone would have a problem with O Canada will now have a better idea.

And there is actually a beautiful national song in which the poet, a secular Jew, expresses what I think is an appropriate love for country. This song has become an unofficial national anthem for many in the nation in question, and I’ll consider it in my next post.

Repent early and often. Why wait till the end is near?

Last week I shared with you the “Word of Preparation” I’d prepared for our Sunday bulletin. Well, this is the second Sunday of Lent, and I thought I’d share my prep word with you again. This Sunday the theme of the service is REPENTANCE. It’s easy to understand “repentance”; it simply means to back up when we realize we’ve gone the wrong way. Unfortunately, understanding “repentance” seems to be the only easy thing about it.

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I was in grade three when my youngest brother was born and, even though he was # 8, it was still a pretty big deal. – We were Catholic and, in those days, Catholic families didn’t get either concerned or blasé till they passed a dozen. – My teacher, Miss McKay, who had taught several of the kids in the family, followed the pregnancy with interest, and was thrilled when I announced to the class that Michael Joseph had finally arrived.

I knew immediately that I had misspoken – his name is actually Joseph Michael – but I wasn’t quite sure what to do. It’s embarrassing to admit that you’re confused about your own brother’s name, even when he’s a brand new brother, and it’s a brand new name. So I just let it go.

No harm done, you might think. But, as I say, Miss McKay was very interested in the lives of her students so for the rest of the year, from February through June, she continued to ask me, every other day it seemed, about the progress of little Mike, and I continued to let it go.

I got through this embarrassing situation without being discovered, and eventually forgot the whole thing. Then one Christmas, when I was in high school, we received a lovely card from Miss McKay, with the most thoughtful little PS on the bottom, “I remember how excited Danny was when little Mike was born, Hope you are all well.”

I was inwardly mortified, of course, but by this time I’d perfected the prideful art of concealing my foolishness. I not only let it go, I joined in the speculation with the rest of the family that poor Miss McKay must be losing it.

The refusal to REPENT, to back up and admit that we’ve been foolish or wrong, is just pride. And what could be more foolish or wrong than for silly creatures like us to be proud?

I’ll stand for it, but that’s where I draw the line.

Have you ever noticed at a sporting event, when the people stand to sing the national anthem, how many don’t sing? Perhaps I notice this because I myself am not singing, but it’s really quite striking, and I often wonder what their reasons might be. Of course, I suspect most of them just don’t like singing. But I sometimes wonder if there are others like me who, at some point in their life, gave the anthem some serious thought and made a conscious decision to stop singing it. But why would someone do such a thing? Well, I can’t tell you about others, but I can tell you about me. I don’t sing for reasons of faith.

When I committed my life to Christ many years ago I didn’t do it all at once. Before I realized I was doing it I was already part way there, and over the course of many years I’ve gone the rest of the way. By “the rest of the way” I mean the rest that I’ve gone. Faith is a journey and I’m not done yet.

A large part of my particular faith journey has been a journey into thoughtfulness. – I’m not using the word here as we usually use it, to mean a keen mindfulness of the feelings and needs of others, (wish I could) but simply to mean thinking seriously about the things I believe, and do, and think. – And as I thought about my life as a man, son, brother, husband, father, etc., I noticed that these things often present faith conflicts that I need to think through. And the expectation placed on me as a Canadian also presents a faith conflict; ergo the national anthem question.

NATIONAL ANTHEMS, AND PATRIOTISM IN GENERAL.

The Apostle John tells us that “God is love” (1 John 4:16) and, to me, this means that everything about my God-life is going to somehow be about my love-life. The reordering of my life, to bring it into line with God, must, therefore, inevitably be about the reordering of my loves, i.e., love of wife, family, friends, strangers, enemies, self, and, of course, country.

We already know this from Jesus who says the two great commandments, that actually sum up the meaning of all the others, are, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” And “Love your neighbour as yourself.” Mark 12:30-31

Note two very interesting implications of this. First, if, as Jesus indicates, I am to devote all of my being to loving God, then the love of my neighbour is part of my love of God. And second, neighbour is an undifferentiated category that contains all those in my life who are not God. I am actually part of this group and, thus, the love I have for them should be essentially the same as the love I have for me.

This is a very hard concept so in Luke’s Gospel (10:30-37) Jesus illustrates the point with the example of a Samaritan who comes to the aid of a beaten stranger. This Samaritan fulfils the command to love neighbour as self precisely because he doesn’t see the beaten man as: a Jew, a Roman, a Greek, or as someone who’s not a fellow Samaritan, as an enemy, a stranger, or even as a brother or friend. He sees him simply as the same kind of being he himself is, with the same kind of needs he himself has, and so treats him kindly.

All this to say that, fundamental to my faith-life, which is largely my “love-life”, is Jesus’ law of love. I paraphrase: (1)No one gets to be top priority all the time, including me. (2) Pretty much everyone gets to be top priority some of the time, including enemies and me. (3) No one gets to be God, especially me. The great spiritual problem I face, however, is that almost everyone, including me, want’s be a higher priority for me than they actually should be, and some seem to want to be that absolute top priority, i.e., God. And, in my experience, the most brazen offender in this regard, apart from myself, is my country.

All countries, of course, expect from their citizens love and devotion. And I am quite happy to concede that this is a good thing. Surely love of country is a legitimate kind of love, as is love of family, spouse, school, friends, community, etc. The problem, however, is that this particular form of love so incessantly demands a higher place than it should properly have. In this respect countries are rather like mothers who insist on the love their children reserve for their best friends, or friends who insist on the love that’s reserved for a spouse.

If this is hard to see, maybe it would be helpful for us to consider the special, and very revealing word, we use exclusively for love of country, “patriotism”. This word comes from the Latin word “pater”, or “father”. It is, specifically, the love that is appropriate to your father. In a patriarchal society it’s the highest love, and so it’s the love that the county wants. I believe it’s foolish for a country to want this; the kind of foolishness born of thoughtlessness, that leads to arrogance. And I believe it’s the duty of citizens to be wise, with a wisdom born of thoughtfulness, that leads to humility. And, therefore, I believe it is the duty of the loving, wise, thoughtful, humble citizen to say “NO” to all forms of patriotism.

But for a follower of Jesus the situation is even clearer. In Matthew 23:9 Jesus tells his disciples, “do not call anyone on earth 'father,' for you have one Father, and he is in heaven.” Jesus has already redirected my father-love to God. How can I take that father-love now and give it a country?

National anthem singing is probably the most common way citizens are expected to declare their patriotism or, as our anthem so eloquently describes it, their “true patriot love”. I do not sing the national anthem because I am not a patriot. I stand out of respect for those who are, but my patriot love is already, and thoroughly, pledged.

Next post I’ll consider O Canada in detail, because it is such a great example, certainly the best example I know, of a national anthem that makes a thoughtless, shameless, and brazen attempt to usurp the place of God. As the old proverb goes, “One might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.” Which means, if I understand it correctly, “Now that I’ve made a mess spilling some of the beans, I might as well dump the whole load.”

PS: I'm the one in the toque.